


Dancing with the Devil.

by radioxctive



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:10:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radioxctive/pseuds/radioxctive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amelia Connors is the personal assistant to one of New York's greatest Business owners, but what will she do when she grasps the unwanted attention of Rival businessman, Mr. Thomas Hiddleston, who is interested in more than just her work ethic?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One.

My eyes watered frantically; feet pounding against the cobbled paths as I stormed through the windy streets of New York City, with a headache that only synchronized the pounding of my high-speed run. I hadn’t realized that morning that I was running late; until my delightful room-mate, crossing as my best friend since we were both able to walk, had graciously informed me that it was 8:30, giving me an estimate of 15 minutes to ready myself and arrive at work before 9:00 am. I wouldn’t have minded, if the occurring situation had not crossed every single morning.

You see, Katherine and I had always been close: we laughed together, we cried together. If either one of us got hurt, then the other would go out of their way to create chaos for the culprit of their friends’ pain. But, as we had grown older from our rebellion ‘BFF’ stages of life; Katherine, instead of seeking comfort from my support, had ultimately found the replacement in a bottle. And even though I objected to the ordeal of the method ‘solving any of her problems’ - it had not taken long for her alcoholic influences to effect me… Therefore leading to a constant string of sleepless, drunken nights, slow dancing to heartbreak songs and cursing every man we had ever come to know in our 27 years of precious life. And as appealing as it all would have sounded to the adverage young woman; in my line of work, it was certainly the opposite.

As a personal assistant to one of the biggest business owners within the American State, I was obliged to arrive early, and ensure that everything was in the precise conditions for my Boss’ work: and with the slowly descending spiral, and my ever-growing lateness to my favorite job, I was ultimately coming close to seeing an end to the perfect career. Well, perfect; if I didn’t have to deal with the Boss from Hell.

Coffee in hand; my chest heaved with heavy pants as I rushed to the block of elevators, traveling to the top floors of the modernly-designed building. Sharing the glass case with one other, I offered a gracious smile to the man who had held to shaft open for my arrival. “Thank you.” my words came out heavier than intended, but in return, the mysterious man graced a diluted smile, his attention focused upon the high-market device that gripped in his long, defined hands.

I could not help but analyze his presence; a face I had not seen before within the Kensington building, held the only possibility that he was here on a structural visit with Miss. Kensington. And even if he was a Business associate to the company, all of Amelia’s concern merely lied upon whether he liked sugar in his coffee, or milk in his tea.

"There’s a zoo a few streets away. I’m sure there are things there that you could happily stare at?” he blurted out, attention undivided from the glowing electronic in his hand. His accent was defined; evidently English, and so proper, that he could be mistaken for a Royal. It was only obvious; with remarkable bone-structure, and poise, it was fitting that he had a voice that would send a thousand nuns to the confession box.

But, as his words finally registered in my distracted mind, my blue hues widened with realization to what I had been doing. “I’m sorry, I just… I haven’t seen you here before.”

I swung a foot; kicking an imaginary object out of its’ way as my gaze diverted to the black designer shoes. Stupidity had overcome me as quickly as my previous state of not-so-subtle interest had; cheeks reddening under the evolved silence within the small compartment.

The sound of a laugh directed my attention back, and the image of him grinning only created a furthermore, unnatural warmth. “I’m here on Business. I don’t work here. _Thank God_." his voice carried a hint of venom, at the mention of the business, and I didn’t know whether I should have been offended, or have opted to agree with him - for humor purposes. Then again, I was already dramatically late. I didn’t need ‘hating the fucking place' written on my report.

"Good, because I was going to say if you did work here, you could get Miss. Kensington her coffee and I could slope off and catch up with Doctor Phil.”

I noticed the brief return of a grin towards my statement, highlighted by a slight shake of his head, that only caused the gingery locks of hair to wobble out from their gelled hold. I watched him curiously, slipping his phone into the inside pocket of his tailored suit jacket, and tilting his head back, to maintain a proper posture; in which I had come to subtly mimic - creating an unknown surge of confidence within my position.

"I’m guessing you’re her _coffee girl_?” he asked outright, directing his icy gaze to my slightly towered image; which had only come to crumble under the intensity of his stare.

"Personal Assistant… _Not coffee girl_." I pointed out, holding the cup out, as if the physically highlight both statements.

His eyebrow arched; a twitch at the edge of his lips as his gaze transferred between the object of the cup, and my own, obviously-shattered expression. “isn't it the same thing?” he bluntly stated.

“Touche.”

The elevator opened; exposing us both to the designated floor; and already, I could see the soaring fury of Barbara Kensington in the distance of the secretary compartments, thumbs battering against the screen of her phone, before I felt mine vibrate against my upper thigh. The man raised a brow at the sound, eyeing the location of my body, before traveling back to my panicked face. “Looks like you’re about to experience the wrath of Satan.” he commented, and through the shivers of icy sweat, I attempted to laugh at his words. “If you hear me screaming, call the cops.”

Absently, I took a sip of the coffee that graced my hand, buying his partially confused attention for a moment longer, which I merely replied with a smile. “I told you, personal assistant.”

Stepping out, he only graciously offered that I went first; be it his gentlemanly nature, or the devilish need to see me fried under the female’s wrath; but his hand had delicately splayed upon the small of my back, pressing lightly against my side as I watched the flustered Kensington lady in the distance. “What’s your name?” he asked, and as I turned my head to look at him, I heard my name being bellowed from the other side.

"Amelia Connors!-" the screech cut off, approaching the image of myself, alongside her business associate. Anger masked behind a feigned smile, offering her hand to the man who had just enclosed my personal space, in which he had taken on official terms. "Mr. Hiddleston, I apologize sincerely. I had not been informed that you had arrived." she sneered at me, in which I openly held a hand up to. "Amelia, be a Darling and take Mr. Hiddleston’s Jacket, will you? And fetch some refreshments."

"I’d much rather keep this engagement short, Miss. Kensington." his words interrupted her, and as I looked towards him, I caught his icy hues staring towards me. "But I appreciate your kindness… _Miss Connors_.”


	2. Chapter Two.

" what do you mean you want to 'pull out' of the deal? " 

The pitched sound resembled that of a dying banshee, and I was honestly surprised that the translucent glass had not shattered with the frequency. Surely, if it was bad for us on  _this_ side of Hell; then I could only begin to wonder what it must have been for the unfortunate soul that had crossed her. The outer span of the top floor fell silent; as if a single pin dropping could warrant the termination of a contract. We all knew how ' _fragile_ ' Miss. Kensington could be; so to add upon the raging fire that Mr. Hiddleston had obviously created, would probably be the  _last_ thing any of us were willing to do. 

" It's not just the deal I want to terminate, Miss. Kensington. It's the partnership entirely. "

He did not hide behind curtains with his business plans anymore than what she did; which was probably what had enraged the woman more than anything. She was so accustomed to getting her own way, that to have someone entering  _her_ building, and inevitably doing the same, was  _alien._ But Tom sat; fingers linked together as they rested in his lap - his pale hues staring down the woman who had turned beet before him. He maintained a cool demeanor; eliminating any source of informality that could have been processed within the slender minutes he had closed his company gap with hers'. " You see, I believe that Hiddleston Incorporated would move swiftly, if we didn't have to wait on... felonious supplement. "

" There is nothing 'felonious' about my company Thomas-"

" Mr. Hiddleston."

A silence cascaded over them like a thick cloud of fog; and in the heights of basic competition, it had been Miss. Kensington who had diverted her gaze. A manicured finger pressing against her PA system,  the static buzzing coming through had alerted me from my melancholic daze. " Amelia. Fetch me the legal documentation of the Hiddleston contract. " her voice, though it had been soft through the speaker, still maintained the level of pure venom that laced her dangerous tongue. And with a flash, I had jumped to my feet; heels almost failing on me as I marched through the rows of secretaries; speed quickening with the fear of facing Miss. Kensington's wrath: should I be a second over the time she predicted I would be.

* * *

 " There really is no need, Miss. Kensington. I would prefer Hiddleston Inc. to fly a solo path. You of all people should understand that,  _dependency_ on people, is what could bring a business to its' knees. " his words carried a hint of remembrance to the opposing female, who impatiently tapped her blood red nails against the quality oak of her desk. Though, she allowed the briefness of a smile to turn at her painted mouths' corners. " If you're trying to use my business history as a way to _worm_ out of our contract,  _Mr. Hiddleston,_ then I am afraid you are just as  _inexperienced_ as - - "

Her eyes flicked up; and when I caught her demonic attention, my color drained. Files shaking in my tightened fists, my gaze lowered to the printed words upon brown sheets. " I got the files- "

"  What did I tell you about  _knocking_ , Amelia? " 

I stared at her, for a moment longer than what had been comfortable, before realizing what she had said; and in a flustered mess, I turned, dispersing from physical display and ardently rattled my fist against the door, before emerging through once again. " I got the files you asked for. Is there anything else I could do? " my words betrayed me, with the nervous shaking of my throat. It had been like facing judgement before two Gods; determining whether you were doomed for Hell, or the glorified proportions of Heaven. But I could not help allowing my gaze to trickle towards the image of the man in which my brief encounter with had left me somewhat  _distracted_ from anything remotely practical. I wanted to blame the over-consumption of alcohol the previous night; but this man, this  _Tom Hiddleston_ had the presence that could get, even a saint in trouble. 

But, I had not been prepared for my gaze to meet his lingering own. His icy hues tore through me as if I were paper; the glistening of mischief spiraling through the life of his eyes, merely distracted me from my very reality. I watched the pulling of a smile against his fine lips; creating defined features to decorate the perfection of his grafted face. I could feel a heaviness in my lower stomach that I had never felt before - creating a source of discomfort in myself as I stood; bared before him and my ordering higher authority.

I had barely noticed the motion of Miss. Kensington's hand in my vision; discarding me like she usually did, uncaring for the occupancy of guests within her 'realms'. And, to her desires, I stumbled out of the suffocating office; shutting the door with a notified 'click' as I freed myself from it all. I leaned against the surface of it momentarily, a heavy breath lingering upon partially parted lips...

* * *

 

" She's good. " Tom commented, turning his attention from the closed door, back to the image of the occupied woman. He watched her flick through the file; glassed perched upon her pointed nose as she studied against his accusing words. It created a light scoff from his self, absently turning his attention back to where  _Miss. Connors_ had dispersed. 

" She's.. Mediocre. " her words contrasted the admiration of his own, and had somewhat instantly brought his attention back to the older woman; still focused upon the tatty papers in her hands. 

" I would tend to disagree. My personal assistant, as lovely as she is, would learn a lot from Miss. Connors. " he continued to compliment, a flash of a grin marking his features. " You're business is very lucky to be occupied with people containing such... Strong work ethic. "

His words bought himself a scoff of laughter; obvious disbelief to what he visually claimed. Setting the file down, the older woman removed her glasses, to shoot her emotionless glare in his direction. " My business does not rely on little girls who arrive to work smelling of booze and mouthwash. " she sneered, and Tom merely tilted his head. But she continued. " Amelia Connors, I won't deny, is one of the best PA's in the city, when her mind is set on her work... But these days, it doesn't seem to be. "

" And have you asked her why? "

" Why would I? She's here to work, not develop a relationship with her boss and become 'BFF's'. " Miss. Kensington mocked the prospect of it; highlighting her terms with the quotations of her fingers. But her belittling mockery merely earned the narrowing of his eyes: unimpressed by the lack of employee respect, let alone non-existent repore. He tapped his foot; a finger swiping along the density of his lower lip as he trailed in thought. " I'll make you a deal. "

His stated words caused her head to tilt; interested in what the male had to say. 

" I'll keep the contract with you... On the conditions that you trade me your PA."

Another cloud of silence fell, before the progression of a grin splayed upon her almost demonic features.

" Deal. "

 

 


	3. Chapter Three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I just wanted to say i'm so amazed by the reception this has gotten so far! Granted, i'm not exactly the best of writers, especially when it comes to 'first person writing' , but thank you so much for being so amazing, and actually wanting more! Feel free to give feedback ( positive of negative ) about the fic: because no opinion is a bad opinion! :')

* * *

 

The rest of the day had gone by rather swimmingly; granted, I had still been ran off my feet by pending 'orders' from the Wicked Witch of the West, but my attitude towards what I had  _expected_ to be my worst of days, had grown more positive as the hours progressed. Heck, I had even convinced myself that I had seen Miss. Kensington  _smile_ at me... Though I remained oblivious to  _how_ her mood had changed from wanting to slaughter every source of happiness in the building, to becoming the ultimate source herself; I was convinced it had something to do with the early morning meeting with Mr. Tom Hiddleston. Well, he _does_ have a face that even Cruella Deville could love; but he must have done something so  ** _spectacular_  **to warrant this much happiness. 

But, as the day fell, leaving me and a handful of others left within the modern-styled skyscraper, the night soon engulfed the joyous light that had surrounded us; causing the decent temperature to drop below that of comfortable stature. The early dawns of Winter had always been a killer in the city; especially after such a glorious Summer that New York had previously engaged in, but it was always something we, as citizens, were prepared for. Pulling on the thick fabric of my blood-red duffle coat, I tucked my mess of hair up into a white woolen hat, purposely matching the heavy knit scarf that acted as a noose around my neck, and with casual 'goodbyes' and 'be safe's' , I had left the artificial warmth, and enveloped in the chilling night air.

I had opted for the scenic route home; with my shared standard apartment only a few blocks away, it had always been quicker to cut through the park rather than risk the hustle and bustle of the city streets at this time of night. But, with a firm grip on my purse, I still remained cautious to the low levels of safety within the spanning area. I'd heard the stories, seen the crime scenes on tv, but still, it all failed to trigger that element of fear in someone who had  _lived_ through it all, whereas visitors panicked at the very thought of crossing a foot over the barrier that brought them out from the urban atmosphere. 

" You know, it's not safe for a young lady to walk home alone at this time of night. "

The voice startled me; causing my brisk motion to falter into stillness; casting my head to the direction in which it's source had been. Noticing the image of a man seated upon a park bench, the tenderness of a smile graced my features to  _who_ this man had been. 

" Do you always sit in parks and point out the elements of danger to _young women_? "

I countered; watching Tom as he rose to his feet; buttoning his suit jacket with a swift movement - making it look easily, even though most men I worked with struggled in looking so poised. Absently, I had bitten my lip, watching his innocent, yet so very effective movements as he approached where I mindlessly stood. But it was the broadened grin that made my cheeks inflame; creating the source of heat that, pleasantly, warmed my freezing body; and I was convinced that the bastard knew he had an effect. God, he probably had women weeping at his feet on every given day. All he needed to do was speak, and smile, and the women were his...

" Only on weeknights. " he answered, a boyishness coming to his impeccable, manly features, and I couldn't help but expose a laugh, shaking my head against the intent. But, casting my blue eyes towards those of his own, I noticed an element of _protection_ glaze his beautiful orbs. " Let me walk you home. " 

It sounded more of a demand than a request, and even if I refused, I had the feeling that he would have insisted until I caved, so to make matters simpler, I nodded in acceptance to his offer; pressing my lips together to fight back the giddy beam that threatened against my features. 

Walking by his side, we had both allowed personal silence to surround us; listening to the noises made by distant traffic, and the sounds of people arguing in frustration for whatever reasoning. I walking with my arms folded, enveloping whatever heat I could muster as my head hung to avoid the Arctic winds that attacked our motions, and every now and then, both of us had opened our mouths to speak, only to be greeted by an awkward nothing. 

" I'm guessing you kept the deal with Miss. Kensington this morning? " I finally broke the silence, casting my gaze to his, which had been met with brief shock, obviously not expecting business to be the topic of conversation. 

" Whatever gave that away? "

" She'd been grinning like a Cheshire cat since you left; it's not exactly an image we're used to in the Kensington Estate. " 

I watched him laugh in response, and the sudden urge to trace his heavyset dimples had become too much of a temptation, that I had to look away; laughing briefly to myself, in contagion. 

" It was under strict conditions, but yes. I eventually agreed. Though, to be honest with you, I thought she was about to slice my head off with her nails!" 

" Believe me, you're not the only one to think that... "

It was unprofessional, to laugh about my boss with a high-ordering client, but I could not help the casual relationship that had began to build within the lack of professionalism. What I had seen, very briefly, this morning, was a strong, independent businessman, who had arrived to the Kensington with professional intentions. And now, in the space of a few long minutes, I was enveloping  _another_ side of the man that was so well known in the professional market. A tender laugh, decorated with a glowing smile, and joyous eyes. I couldn't help but wonder if I had been the first to see this side of him - beyond family and close friends, of course. 

" I find that hard to believe... " his voice soothed out, words rolling off his tongue with ease, as the side-cracking humor soon faded into the pitch of night. I cast my gaze back to him; the wrinkles of laughter soon fading to an expression of giddy embarrassment. But, as I shrugged my shoulders in coy motion; his words continued. " From what I seen this morning, I think Barbara Kensington is a lucky woman, to have such a  _fantastic_ coffee girl. "

" Hey! " I shoved his arm gently, creating another roar of unique laughter to fall from his lips. " I told you,  _personal assistant._ " I corrected, with feign hurt, before pretending to stomp off in front, allowing him to below in his laughter; but as I spun around to look back to him, I had misjudged my footing, and my hellishly uncomfortable heels toppled under my weight. I expected to hit the cobbled ground underneath me, but as my fingers gripped on to some kind of material, my instantly shut eyes slowly began to open, witnessing a moment of heroism, as  _the_ Tom Hiddleston, saved me from my humiliation. 

I looked to him in disbelief; wide eyes staring to his own, which had become occupied with worry as he held me in his grasp. It felt like the world was violently spinning, or had it stopped completely? But coming out of the hypnotic trance, he pulled me up to my feet; allowing me to straighten myself as he gathered his own composure. " My apologies, Miss. Connors. " he spoke out bluntly, his tone returning to the droll I had heard him speak in earlier that day, and with a wave of my hand, I dismissed it. " No,  _thank you._ That could have been... embarrassing. "

* * *

 

The rest of the journey had been occupied by complete silence; both of us walking with our physical attention focused on different things; but my mind refused to tear away from the sudden prospect of his previous actions. I barely knew him; had it not have been through the line of work we are both involved in, I wouldn't know him from Adam. God, I was even willing to dismiss him as an intern when I first saw him! But, the way he held me with such precise handling; avoiding any sections that could warrant sexual proclamations, he had  _saved_ me. And the way his face had been so contorted with worry for  _my_ benefit, and how his mouth had been so close to - -  **No.**

I couldn't think like that! He was in partnership with my  _Boss_! If she knew that I thought about him with such... Lack of professionalism, she'd fire me in her first breath! But,  _would it be worth it?_ A part of me screamed it would. But that part merely existed within the walls of my invaded home. I had to stick to my rational side; the side that would keep me employed, and keep food on the table, for me  _and_ Katherine. The side that was struggling against every passing second. 

As we approached the block of apartments, I stopped outside the flight of steps, turning my attention to the man who had been staring at me. " Thank you... For walking me home. "

" It was my pleasure. " his voice returned to a softer nature, diverting his eye contact for the speck of a second, before casting a hardened gaze back to my hopeful features. I offered a smile, in return of it, and held out my hand - to maintain a professional matter. " And it really is a pleasure to be working with you. "

I noticed the slight slither of a smirk form at the corner of his mouth; deceiving, but I could only brush it off as male mannerisms, or perhaps  _something more._ But to the offer of my hand, I silently yelped at the feeling of his warm flesh take that of my freezing own, and swiftly, he brought it up, planting the lightest kiss against my knuckles, as his blue eyes danced across my blushing features. Lowering it, he straightened his posture, fingers playing with the button of his immaculate suit as he watched my lack of movement. 

" Believe me Miss. Connors. The pleasure is  _all mine._ "

And with those words, I watched him leave; an aching in my core to the words he had spoken. But as his black-clad figure distanced itself into the night, I hesitantly turned and climbed the freezing concrete steps - still continuing to watch him: until his figure left my sight.


	4. Chapter Four.

I hadn't returned to the drowning reality, until setting foot inside my blackened apartment: immediately greeted with the lingering stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol, and it warranted nothing less of a frustrated groan. My travel from the freezing outdoors - through the equally freezing building had been occupied with my lack of mannerisms towards the man who had clearly gone out of his way to ensure my safety. And I hadn't even offered him a warm cup of coffee in thanks to his kindness... Though, he might have preferred tea. But, to the mess I had been greeted with, I was somewhat glad that my own manners had come second nature. The last thing I needed was a witness to what Mrs. Kensington had suspected my living style to be. But in my own defense: the mess wasn't mine.

"Katherine!" I screeched, kicking an empty beer can away from the apartment door, before I peeled the far-too-expensive heels from my blistered feet. It wasn't equitable, that the most expensive object within the building would have been a pair of shoes, gifted by none other than my High-Fashion Boss. She had claimed that it would have 'looked better' if her Assistant maintained a 'classical' impression: with tucked in blouses, high-waist skirts and mountain heels that expressed an ounce of feminine power: if you could walk in them. But I liked to believe that it was a moment of softness that the old bat had taken for me; before I ultimately blew it with a stupid grin and the loss of control over the office espresso machine. "What do you think this is, a bedsit? Get out here and pick this up!"

I was met with a groaning mess of the human I had spent almost my whole life with; her blonde hair ruffled and uncombed, and she still wore the same clothes that I had left her in that morning: even though I had given specific orders for her to shower and dress, and at least try to maintain a normal life. I knew she'd been suffering: having her boyfriend of three years walk out on her, after she'd discovered his cheating ways. I'd always believed they had been a match made in Heaven: but he had been nothing more than a sly devil. And Katherine deserved better. "I'm too tired." she mumbled, rubbing her blackened eyes as they directed to my equally-as-tired image. My arms crossed over my layered frame; eyebrows arched to give the meager impression that I wasn't laying back easily, and with another groan, she hobbled over; bare feet treading the once spotless flooring. Watching her pick up the stranded waste, I slowly unwound my scarf, and dismissed of my coat, before placing them upon the rack next to the door. 

"So, what did you do all day?" I asked my friend; trying to maintain a softer tone of voice with the fragile woman, who could be set off by the use of a word. When she straightened, she merely shrugged her shoulders in response; hugging the empty cans to her chest, to avoid dropping any. "You know, movies, music,  _the usual_." she muttered; her stained-red eyes traveling over my partially shorter height: lacking the towers that added too many inches to my natural height. "I think the boiler might be broken again." 

My teeth chattered. "I think you're right, it's  _freezing_ in here!" I proclaimed, rubbing at my sleeve-covered arms to create friction. That had been the fourth time this month, but to be perfectly honest, I wasn't at all surprised. The building was older than time, and the apartment manager barely gave a damn about his residence, as long as he was making enough money to support his drug addiction. I motioned forward; watching as my oldest friend hobbled through to the kitchen, and listened to her dropping the cans into the garbage. I felt awful for her, really. She was such a gentle heart: clean, respectful, and one of the best people I had ever met in my life; but she'd been destroyed. Her playful nature crumbled into self-loathing, and she blamed herself for what had happened, when really,  _he_ didn't know the perfection he had in her. I  _tried_ to help her see that she wasn't to blame, but the more she thought about that asshole, the more she became dependent on the influence of alcohol. And being her friend, I was only obliged to do whatever it was she wanted from me. Even if it did mess with my own personal schedule. 

"So, who was that guy you were with?" I heard her ask from the divided kitchenette, while I had made my way into my own bedroom, and stripped from my uncomfortable work clothes. Pulling a jumper over my incredibly pale frame, I could feel the beginnings of a blush creep against my cheeks. "What guy?" I asked in automatic response, continuing to pull black leggings on, as Katherine came to rest against the chipping doorframe. Her eyes bore against me; suspicious and completely intrigued as to _who_ Mr. Hiddleston was. "The one that walked you home. Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome." she coo'ed, a delicate smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. I shrugged in return, mentally stuttering over my answer. "Just a guy I work with." -  _It wasn't a lie._

"If I had known the guys in your company looked like that-" she trailed off with a low whistle, and I immediately rolled my eyes.

"He doesn't work in the same company. He works for the _partnered_ company. He was in the building today, so - "

"Oh my gosh, so he's like, _your boss_ _?_ "

"No! He's working with Mrs. Kensington -"

"The Mega-Bitch,"

" _Yes, the Mega Bitch._ "

Katherine skipped forward; instantly grasping my head between her two ice-cold palms. I could tell she was still intoxicated, but not enough to warrant her completely incoherent. Right now, she knew what she was doing, saying. I could tell by the glimmer of pure mischief that twinkled in her light brown eyes. "My poor little Amelia; why didn't you invite him in?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, but stayed in the position that she held me in. "Because, we're business associates. It's impractical for me to invite someone into my home without proper knowledge of who they are."

"Which is - ?"

"Thomas Hiddleston."

Her playful expression dropped completely; her wrinkled muscled relaxing, and I was pretty sure that the tan color had drained from her model-like face. The man clearly had a reputation; even if I had been so willing to dismiss him for another poor sucker that Mrs. Kensington was about to destroy.

"What? Amelia, you do _realize_ who he is, right?"

"Of course I do! The biggest Businessman in New York, London _and_ Paris!"

"Oui oui, and he just  _walked you home!_ "

"And?"

She smothered me in a hug; a sudden excitement overcoming her alcoholic state as she swayed with me; my frame stiffer than hers, through the lack of knowledge to what she had become so happy about. "Oh darling, you have so much to learn..."

* * *

 

We had spent the entire night sitting, discussing the man who I was to know as a Business partner: and I was rather surprised at Katherine's knowledge of him. I never really thought that television models would have come across such perfectionists like Mr. Hiddleston, but apparently, she'd had a few minor interactions with him in the past; and David (the ex that ditched her) had known him from  _before_ he'd made his break in the big city. But, halfway through the night I had called her bullshit, and the pair of us had fallen asleep, huddled for warmth with the lack of heat in the dusky old apartment.

I didn't waken until 8:30, and instead of forcing my friend out of her peace, I silently maneuvered around her resting state. I'd never seen her so lively as what she had been the course of the night, and I was pleasantly surprised that she hadn't once abandoned my company, to seek that of alcoholic substance. It was as if we had traveled back a decade, and were teenagers in the height of our youth: gossiping about the best looking senior, and giggling about the mass of hairspray and extensions that occupied the 'popular girls' heads. It almost felt like I had gotten my friend back; but I knew that once I left this morning, her loneliness would consume her once more, and she'd seek company from another bottle. 

I was showered and dressed in fifteen minutes, and instead of spending countless time toying with my mass of dark curls, I hurriedly pinned them back in a sloppy bun. Grabbing my purse from the chest of drawers, I planted a kiss upon my sleeping friends' forehead, stirring her to brief consciousness, before she flicked over and snuggled against my abandoned pillow. And with that image, I left. 

Pulling my coat tight around myself, I tried to maintain as much heat as my bare legs could allow me; and, careful with my footing, I descended the flights of stairs with caution of my over-priced footwear. I longed for the day that I could turn up to work in slacks and flats; but I knew that day would only come, once the mega-bitch had up and left... But she had another eternity left in her rotten soul. Hanging my head, I hadn't noticed the vehicle parked outside the building until the sound of the horn blaring caught my shocked attention. Brows furrowing, I watched as the driver stepped out: dressed in absolute finery, as if he was a chauffeur to Queen Elizabeth herself. "Miss. Connors." he spoke out, opening the back door of the glistening black vehicle before me, and I noticed the cream interior from the corner of my vision. But my head shook, no doubt. "I'm sorry, I don't understand what-"

"I have been sent to ensure that your arrival is both comfortable and luxurious in this harsh degree of weather." he spoke, not a pitch off sounding like a controlled robotic drone. But his words still registered with confusion in my baffled mind. I'd never been chaperoned to work in the five years i'd slaved under Mrs. Kensington's control.  _Why was she starting now?_ But I knew I couldn't blame  _this_ man for my suspicion. He was merely doing what he was paid for. With a shrug of my shoulders, I hesitantly approached the open car; clutching at my purse as I slid in to the leather seats, and watched the man close the door, once I had properly settled. Drawing my seatbelt, I continued to watch him; swallowing the rising panic that grew inside. Was I really that trusting? This guy could have been  _anyone!_ But, if he wanted to kidnap me, why would he do it in broad daylight, with men, women and children occupying the streets? And why would he address me so  _formally?_ I mentally battled myself; cursing myself for being so naive, and shaming myself for being so judgmental about a man who I didn't know... but as the car drove off from the security (of sorts) of my apartment, I couldn't help but feel nervous. 

* * *

 

The car took the usual route that I would have walked, and my attention had slowly faded from the accusations of this man being a potential serial killer, to the towering buildings that our journey had passed. But, as I noticed his mapping taking an opposite turn to where the Kensington Estate was located, my fear soon bubbled once more. "Excuse me," I spoke out delicately, leaning forward in my seat, to attempt grasping his attention. "I think you turned the wrong way. I work at the Kensington." 

my words seemingly met deaf ears, and as my fear and frustration grew, my chest began to heave with every intake of breath.  _'I'm going to die' 'he's going to kill me' 'oh god, what will Katherine do?'_

The abrupt stop caused my forehead to smack against the soft leather of the Driver's headrest, and while rubbing the spot with the pads of my fingers, I turned my head to see him opening the car door once more; stepping aside to offer me room for escape. Undoing my seatbelt, I scurried out of the car with as much grace as I could muster through the practical heart-attack that I was enduring, but as my gaze transferred from the man, to the building that stood before me; I slowly contorted my features into a frown; before directing a glare back to the male. 

"I'm really sorry sir, but I don't think you heard me. I don't work  _here._ "

"I think you'll find, Miss. Connors,-" a voice spoke out from behind me. A voice, I knew almost instantly, and had a not-so-subtle effect upon my alabaster skin.

I turned my head; greeting the towering image of the man I had spent the whole night swooning over, dressed in  _another_ Armani suit; and decorated with a heart-stopping grin. 

"-That you  _do._ "

 


End file.
